MOTHER MARY
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Mother Mary
Heave high those breasts
Perk out your chest
Refresh your pipes from the winds of the west
And give that church song your best
~
Mother Mary
Heave high those breasts
Perk out your chest
Refresh your pipes from the winds of the west
And give that church song your best
~
Thomas Paul Murphy
~
Copyright 2010 Thomas Paul Murphy
Why I still go to Church
1. I like to hear women sing
2. I get a sense of community
3. I like to look at the women
4. I like the shaking of hands part
5. I like the sense of tradition
6. There might be someone I know to chat with on the way out
7. I like to see everyone listen quietly like good students should
8. I like to see the smiling faces
9. I like to hear the “Stories” of the bible and personal anecdotes of the priests and think about the stories.
10. I know for a fact of the existence of God and believe in him. And you should too and believe he means good for us.
I worked in Chicago for a year during the early 1990’s and a coworker told me that all priests were openly gay during private parties. I did not want to believe this but did not go for a period of about 25 years but started again as an adult.
I still go to churches knowing priests are likely to be gay because I like to hear what “Story” they will tell. I like to listen to stories being told in person. It would be good if we could widen this fading tradition via different venues in our country. Today there are “Stories” told at fishing clubs and nature based types of places.
I am hopeful that the Catholic Church will be what it is stated to be and should be.
The bible was not written by ulterior motivated writers, it was divinely inspiration speaking to the saints and apostles. One reason this has to be true because it is not sympathetic or biased to any one group.
Remember God’s final word on homosexuality was the complete and utter destruction of the ancient cities of Sodom and Gomorrah.
My Prominent Memory of Roman Catholic School 05 06 2010
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In Catholic Grade school the shortest kid in class, we’ll call him McGulicuddy was being molested by the largest boy in class, we’ll call him Clarence. Clarence was on top of McGulicuddy, he had wrestled him down and McGulicuddy could not get away. Clarence was pinching his nuts to ruin.
McGulicuddy was crying out in pain. There was no supervisor to be found. Ostensibly the Principal, a nun, was probably getting another pack of cigarettes.
All of the rest of the classes just stood far away. Either leering or scared. Not wanting to do anything.
I could not just stand there and see this happen. I had wrestled with Clarence before and knew it would be close. I also knew I would have no help. Clarence had grown bigger by the third grade and I was second smallest in the class, but also the oldest.
I could not stand there anymore than a moment. It bothered me so much and tore at my conscious that if I had not done anything it would have bothered me the rest of my life if I hadn’t done anything. It was weakening me as I was almost starting to cry.
So I ran as fast as I could in my Tough Skins jeans to save him lying their on the hill of grass. Only a few moments passed form the time I saw it happening until I was there.
Clarence would not get off of him it was like he was possessed by more than himself, with the enjoyment of what he was doing.
I pulled him off and ended up wrestling Clarence with little help from anyone, as McGulicuddy ran away crying and fast.
There was a school board meeting but nothing was done to discipline Clarence. Clarence’s mother talked to mine and told her, “They’re all growing up together.” How we loved hearing that. The smaller kids lived in fear of this bully and others that came that got kicked out of public grade schools for all of grade school.
I trained an Irish mechanic while working at a service station during college. He told me of a similar experience of some bully lying on someone and he didn’t know what he was doing to him.
He said he walked right up and took his boot and kicked him square in the nose and damn near knocked him bloody unconscious. I said, “Didn’t they expel you?”
He said, “Uhh, Uhh, No!”
I wish I would have done this that day.
Anyway McGulicuddy said to me the next day, “I have a secret to tell you for what you did for me. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
Quietly I asked, “What is it?”
“All Jews are mind readers.”
My best friend was a Jew and I said, “Prove it.”
I did tell my mother his secret.
So we went to his friend’s house who was a Jew and his aunt was going to read my mind. It turned out she failed to be able to do so because she didn’t know what I was thinking during the ordeal of her going behind a wall separating herself from me and then not knowing what I was thinking.
It seems we had to become dependent on somebody’s mind that earlier day, and is not just them still are.
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God Bless,
Thomas Paul Murphy
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Copyright 2010 Thomas Paul Murphy
The Cross 05 02 2010
In mass today I sat next to two dark haired ladies. They had an Italian look to them. Although pretty they had a stern look on their faces, as if it was hard for them to smile. They could have been twins. When I went to pull up the kneeler, there was a nail head sticking up, and I scraped my finger on it. The scratch formed a perfect cross on my index finger as it crossed a callused line on it.
There were two dark haired young men standing behind me, not in the pews, more than anything else they were a distraction to mass. When it came time to shake for the sign of peace one snarled at me and the other glared, apparently they were not there to make peace. You wonder what some people get out of religion.
Later after communion when it was a little more noisy I pulled out my keys and used the back end of one of them, the part that doesn’t come into contact with the tumblers of locks or switches to firmly press the nail head in so that it no longer stuck out and could scratch me or anyone else. A good man acted and evil no longer exists.
I looked at the two ladies on the right of me and I got a reserved smile from them. A louder man with a gruff voice who was singing seemed to sing a little more happily after that.
Copyright 2010 Thomas Paul Murphy
